A figure stood calmly in a field of molten corpses. The ground was glass, and the air sizzled from the heat.
"M-Merek! Y-you already have enough to ascend! W-What else do you need?"
Viscount Merek stared down at the battered man kneeling before him. Despite the sheer devastation around him, his expression barely changed.
"I decide what is necessary… and what is not."
The battered man coughed violently.
"You think you can deal with the consequences of this? The iron faction will not take this lightly. You will di—"
Merek waved his arm.
A tidal burst of molten fire erupted, so hot it looked liquid. The iron viscount's screams tore through the air as he thrashed about, but Merek simply watched, unblinking, as he became ash.
He calmly raised his gaze. From far behind, his army stared at him with awe and fear. It was to be expected. After all, they had just erased the last major faction in the viscount layer.
The death of the battered man sealed it.
